Calling all Demigods! discussion

"That was a great shot, though!" praised Phillip, whistling. "I prefer knives, myself."

Henry smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Really? Would you mind giving a demonstration?"

Andrew stumbled in. It was his birthday...but not only his. Arthur and Anthony, his triplet brothers, had theirs too. He angrily kicked the ground. Why had that f^cking satyr taken him away from freedom???

Twang, twang.
Two blue-feathered arrows rushed through the air one after the other, pursued by Myra's focussed but otherwise blank blue gaze. The first hit the middle ring and the second grazed the bull's-eye, and Myra flexed her injured arm with a wince. At least it had only been her left arm.

"Nice shot," Charlotte complimented, walking out onto the range with a bow in held in her hands, quiver strapped over her back. She wasn't very good at Archery, and Myra seemed like an extremely good archer to her.

"Thank you," Myra said, not sparing the owner of the voice a glance until her third arrow was embedded not two inches from the bull's-eye. "I tend to be a better shot when emotional." She turned to see the girl who'd been the talk of the camp the past few days: Blonde daughter-of-Poseidon Charlotte. A nervous finger strummed at her bow string, making the musical low sound that Lucas had disliked.

Charlotte's face fell ever so slightly in a frown. The way Myra looked at her had been the way everyone had been looking at her, and she didn't like it. Only Simyda had been so kindhearted, she hoped to see the petite dryad again. "I'm not too good myself," she allowed, letting her gray-green gaze fall to the ground.

Myra regarded the girl, and something in her blank expression seemed to soften. "Have you got much free time? I can try to teach you, if you want. You haven't been at camp long, it's only natural that you don't think you're good at it yet."
Her helpful personality, the only side of her that seemed to stay constant, let the words pour from her mouth like cool spring water, and it relaxed Myra to be offering help once again.

"If it's not too much trouble," Charlotte said, raising her gaze to look at Myra. The first thing she noticed was her newly injured arm, then the scarred one. She knew enough not to stare, and that wasn't hard either, they weren't the most pleasant thing to look at. Charlotte didn't ask questions, and made her way over to Myra with a small smile.

The skin on Myra's scarred right arm prickled, and she fought down the embarassed blush rising in her cheeks. Her father had almost wept when he'd seen his half-immortal daughter so hideously scarred, and though Myra had never shed tears on such a trivial thing, sometimes she felt disgusted with herself by looking in the mirror.
I'd be pretty if I didn't have those scars...
But then Myra, with a shake of her coppery chestnut locks, took Charlotte's bow from her hands and inspected it with a practised eye. "It's too springy for a beginner," she murmured in her low tone. "Here, try this one."
She handed Charlotte an easy-to-pull bow.

Charlotte took the bow and studied it with wide-eyed curiosity, looking slightly childlike. "Thanks," she said, then removed an arrow from her quiver, being careful not to snap it like she had the first time.

Hunter glanced up and cocked his head slightly as the two approached. He was careful to give them room, unsure if it was safe to inject a comment. He decided to just give them a bright smile and return to practice. The bronze dagger at his hip reminded him this was never his strong point.

"Okay. We're not going to try shooting the target today-- pulling the string back while keeping the arrow steadily notched is the hardest part." Myra demonstrated the stance (feet apart, planted firmly on the ground, with her torso twisted slightly to her right). "Pull the string back... keep the arrow notched and steady with a forefinger... and release."
Her blue-feathered arrow disappeared into the woods, a graceful blur of silver.

Charlotte watched with unhidden admiration. Myra seemed so good at it, it only made her feel like she couldn't do any better. "Right, okay." She took the stance, trying to mimic Myra's exact position. Charlotte came pretty close, and that was good enough for her. She raised her bow, trying to keep it notched. Her fingers wouldn't keep still, and it shook far too much for any accuracy as she pulled back. "I can't," she muttered, biting her lip with concentration.

So far, the girl's-- Charlotte's-- stance was good, and she seemed focussed enough. Myra gave an approving nod, frowning slightly as she noticed the girl's trembling fingers. "You have to relax," Myra advised, putting her bow down. "Firm fingers. Own the bow. Don't aim for anywhere yet, just keep your arms pointed slightly up. Steady."
The stream of encouragment calmed Myra as well, and some of the old sparkle returned to her peacock-blue eyes, a smile sweetening her previously blank face.

Charlotte regarded her with a slow nod, breaking her concentration for a moment to glance at Myra. Her smile was reassuring, and significantly aided Charlotte in relaxing. Her fingers stopped shaking, and steaded the bow. She pulled back a tad more, focusing solely on keeping it steady, and released. The arrow flew into the woods, not as fast or graceful as Myra's, but not a complete disappointment either.

"Good," Myra said approvingly. "Really good. When I first tried, I ended up shooting the arrow two feet away, straight in the ground. And that's only when I learned how to use the string." Her smile grew. "Just keep on practising that and it'll soon be second nature."

Charlotte's usually frown set face eased into an easy smile, and she nodded. "Thanks, I've done it a few times before, but not really too well. You're a really good teacher," she added.

Myra blinked once at the praise. "Thanks. I haven't really ever taught before, just been taught. Bow and arrow's the only thing I can do-- well, the dagger I'm learning." The smile melted off her face, leaving it calm and serene, no clue to what she was feeling.

"I've had a few sword lessons," Charlotte said, bringing her out stretched arms down. "It's a lot more easier than a bow, in my opinion. But I'm not the best at it either, I got sliced to bits."

"You can't be great at everything at once," Myra reasoned. The sun was warming her coppery-chestnut hair and she sighed ruefully. "You just need practice."
It would be time to go to dinner soon, and after that, a nice long sleep. She eyed the dropping sun with critical eyes by shading her face with a hand.

"I know," Charlotte said, covering a yawn with her hand. "Thanks for the help, I'm Charlotte." She didn't bother to include her immortal parent, Myra's first look had said it all.

"I know who you are," Myra said with a wan smile, sympathy warming her voice. "I'm Myra." She didn't include her godly parent either, because the girl wouldn't know who Hebe was anyway, and the last thing she needed was to get pissed off at a stranger.

Charlotte bit back a scowl, the last thing she wanted was sympathy. But it wouldn't do them any good to become enemies. After putting her borrowed bow and quiver away, she let a sigh. "It's nice to meet you Myra," she said, extending a hand.

Myra took the offered hand with her own one, feeling oddly precocious as she shook hands with Charlotte. "It's nice to meet you too, Charlotte."
She'd wanted to add that Rumours were rumours and you shouldn't feel constrained by them-- but she chose not to. Still waters did most certainly not run deep in Charlotte, the daughter of Poseidon.

With a nod of final farewell to Myra, Charlotte left the archery range in the direction of the woods, slipping into the dark shadows like a retreat. Hidden, exactly what she wanted to be, but that was hard when you were related to the Sea God.

Myra frowned as she watched Charlotte's retreating back. The famous girl and she had more in common than she'd first thought-- not many used the woods to get where they wanted, and she'd thought she was the only one.
She swivelled on her Converse-clad heel, using the actual trail back to the U-ring of cabins. Guess not.

Andrew waved at Myra back. "Hey, um, whoever you are!" he said theatrically faking his crush on her, "want to compete on archery skills?"

Lightfeather ☼☺♥ wrote: "Henry smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Really? Would you mind giving a demonstration?""

Phillip's eyes brightened. "Sure, I'll demonstrate."
He pulled one of his knives out of a belt sheath- a special throwing knife, small and perfectly balanced. He took aim at a target set down the range, and threw, moving his arm back and forward again in a smooth, fluid motion. The knife zipped through the air and thudded into the center of the target, slicing neatly through the covering and sticking into the wood beneath.

Josephine wrote: "Andrew waved at Myra back. "Hey, um, whoever you are!" he said theatrically faking his crush on her, "want to compete on archery skills?""

Myra turned around, raising a dark eyebrow in her elegant way as she surveyed the camper. He was tall and blond. "Whoever I am?" she asked derisively, though her forefinger stroked her bowstring in anticipation.

"I don't know your name!" He smiled and said to her "I'm Andrew. Apollo cabin! Now, about the contest, I want to make it public. All the camp wil see us. Agreed?"
Suddenly an Iris message appeared in front of him.

"Um, what? Why would you want to make it public?" Myra asked, mystified.

((You need a rainbow for an IM, Jo.))

((someone else sent it.))

((Ok... post, then.))

Andrew said: "Show me".
Two boys, almost equals to Andrew, waved from the apparition and said: "Hey Andrew!"

"Why do you want this public?" Myra asked, instantly suspicious.

"Wait a moment, sweetie!" He turned to the message and said "Stop it! You know Iris will intercept the signal and ship you both to camp!"
Arthur frowned and said: "Who's the lady?"
Andrew went red and said: "Umm, Arthur and Anthony, this is..."

Myra stamped her foot on the ground in impatience. "I'm Myra," she said, wide blue eyes glowering at those that looked like twins.
No... triplets. They looked identical to Andrew.
She sighed, impatient again now that she was over her initial curiousity and repeated her question.

"Sorry, Myra. I want to see if the camp will approve of either of us winning. You see, I have disgraced myself in archery in the past. And I want to remake my reputation..."

"Um, okay," Myra said, bemused. She eyed the Iris Message, still shimmering in the air. "Are those.. your brothers?" she asked finally, eyes darting between the three identical faces.

Magdalena wrote: Phillip's eyes brightened. "Sure, I'll demonstrate."
He pulled one of his knives out of a belt sheath- a special throwing knife, small and perfectly balanced. He took aim at a target set down the range, and threw, moving his arm back and forward again in a smooth, fluid motion. The knife zipped through the air and thudded into the center of the target, slicing neatly through the covering and sticking into the wood beneath.

Henry nodded, obviously impressed. "Woah. You must've been practicing all your life!"

Phillip shook his head. "Nah, only since I came here when I was 10. I guess it's natural talent."

Henry grinned, not hiding his envy. "Lucky! It took me two years to hit the bull's-eye with an arrow! Then again," he added, "sword fighting is my main talent."

((bull's-eye))

((alright.))

Phillip smiled. "The Goddess of Victory's talents don't come to all her children equally, I suppose. You'd think I'd be great at everything, but no. I'm all right with a sword, but ranged is my best. And I can't use a spear to save my life," he added, half-jokingly.

"Yes" Andrew muttered. "We lived in the real world. Beat monsters, basically enjoy liberty."
"Except for meeting gods, for ever since we battled Eris, every god we have met hates us" Arthur replied. "Did you know that about three years ago Eris' children were about to attack this camp for forgetting Eris? We managed to set fire on the camp and beat Eris, but--"
Anthony elbowed him.

"Then why are you still here?" Myra asked curiously. She'd found the story interesting.

"F^cking satyr" Andrew murmured.
"Yeah. But he has a lot o' souvenirs! Did you show him the arrow? Or the apple? Or--?" Arthur said until Anthony shushed him.

"Er... what?" Myra was now thoroughly confused. "What... satyr?"